b3ta.com qotw
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Home » Question of the Week » Nightclubs » Post 402299 | Search
This is a question Nightclubs

Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.

(, Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1

« Go Back

A post-nightclub story, if you'll indulge me...
Bar Central had two major advantages – they played rock, metal and punk instead of the puerile commercial house and trance everywhere else was playing, and the clientele were somewhat more down-to-earth than your average nightclub rude boy or slapper.

Our story finds us an hour into a Saturday night event. The room was filling nicely and I sipped my San Miguel as I observed the multitude of styles and fashions the people at the rock club had to offer.

My friends and I were expecting Mark to arrive any time now. He was bringing a girl he'd met online. He'd not met her before and we took the piss somewhat, joking she'd turn out to be a twenty-stone rubber-clad man. But we were wrong.

Mark came in and waved, towing behind him a pretty, short rock chick. I was impressed but not surprised; Mark had a way with the ladies.

With introductions made, Jess did the rounds and had a shouted conversation with all of us in turn. I found her to be interesting, funny and intelligent – three major turn-ons for me, but I put that to the back of my mind as she spent most of the night sucking face with Mark.

After a few beers and many dances the night drew to a close. I'd had a good night and got a nice buzz on, but heading back to the cars I started feeling mischievous, so I started some banter with Mark and Jess.

"You guys are gonna get some tonight!" I supposed.

"Nah, my folks are home, and you can hear a mouse fart through the walls in my house," said Mark, obviously disappointed.

"Well, if you want to come back to my place, the three of us can have a joint and see what happens?" I joked, rubbing Mark's thigh for effect.

"YES!" shouted Jess, startling the collected company. Mark glared at her - if looks could kill, she'd probably have at least a broken nose and a black eye. She smiled at me, kissed Mark to placate him and squeezed his arse as she bundled him into the back seat

I could hear Mark and Jess talking over the Incubus CD playing in the car, but couldn't quite hear what they were saying. There certainly seemed to be some protest from Mark, with Jess trying to calm him down.

Jess tapped me on the shoulder and winked and nodded at me when I turned around. My trousers twitched as it occurred to me that Jess really was up for some double-team action.

We got dropped-off at my place and I cracked open some beers and rolled a joint. After a few puffs and passes we retired to the living room and sat on the sofa with Jess in the middle. She kissed Mark, then turned to kiss me, then back to Mark again. Hands started wandering as we became more aroused.

Mark wasn't happy, though. He jumped up off the sofa and put his hands to his head, blurting "This is freaking me out, man!" and running out of the room. Five seconds later the front door slammed and we heard footsteps going down the gravel driveway, and we were alone.

I felt guilty, but we laughed and carried on kissing and sharing the joint. Things moved along at quite a pace and soon enough we're naked and joined at the hip making sweet, stoned love.

I'll tell you something: I really enjoyed myself. She was fun, energetic and dirty, and we made the most of our time together. And, she was the only woman I've ever met who had an eight-inch flap-span.

During our third or fourth outing, her phone beeped a text message announcement, and I giggled. "Poor Mark," I said, kissing her gently.

"I didn't want him anyway," she said. "I've had my eye on you all night - I've always been a bit of a chubby chaser."

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'd put on some weight over the previous year – maybe fifteen kilos – but I was a little offended at being called 'fat' while lying there, plugging away.

And that's when I realised that trying to work out your BMI in your head is an excellent delaying technique.
(, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 17:17, 2 replies)
"eight-inch flap-span"

(, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 18:11, closed)
(, Sun 12 Apr 2009, 16:37, closed)

« Go Back

Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1